Simple Man
by Nothing Really Specific
Summary: Rocket Raccoon has personal business he needs to take care of with Peter's father which produces interesting repercussions. A Drama/Friendship/Humor story focusing on Peter and Rocket's relationship.
1. Chapter 1

**Simple Man**

**Chapter I: **

_The Milano_

Peter put the ship in auto-pilot as he drifted off to sleep. He closed his eyes and pressed his headphones up against his ears and put a tape labeled 'Awesome Mix 2' in his Walkman. Peter waved his index finger around like an orchestra conductor and began humming the tune of the song he was listening to.

Downstairs, Rocket was tinkering at his latest invention. It was a small contraption that he constructed out of the air conditioner.

"It's meant to harness the power of say, Ronan, for example, and be able to shot it back. When it's finished that is."

"So, a cruel machine of death constructed out of an air conditioner?" Gamora said, slightly confused as to why and more importantly how any of this was possible in the first place.

The gadget, which Rocket called Halcyon XV, was an impressive machine of death. The body was mostly made from the hot coils, the cold coils, the condenser and the compressor from the air conditioner. This baby had six barrels- two by two stacked on top of each other and one on each side of the four. When fired, the bullet, which was an extremely rare Technetium bullet- a bullet made from one of the most radioactive- and most unstable-elements in the universe, would travel through the hot and cold coils, heating it and cooling it to try and stable it. It would then require a second pull of the trigger, releasing the pressure that was slowly building up behind the bullet. The bullet would then be fired through the air and when it came into contact with an object, such as an insurgent- well, Rocket hasn't gotten to that part yet.

To be honest, it was an WSF. Weapon of Speculative Function. Meaning that it could literally do what he said it would do, or more accurately, completely obliterate anyone who crossed the line of fire.

Either way, Rocket set the machine down and began dismantling it slowly.

As he was doing this, Drax, who was in the bathroom, exited and noticed that it the room temperature was rising. "Why is it," he said, walking in the room nonchalantly, "that whenever something is visibly wrong in the air you're the one to blame."

He looked down at Rocket and smiled playfully. The raccoon, who was still busy working, slowly removed the highly dangerous Technetium bullet and stored it in the storage unit he got it from- an extremely secure, completely indestructible safe that he only knew the combination to. Opening the safe and noticing that Drax was standing there, Rocket looked up at him.

"Don't ask the obvious questions please."

"Alright," Drax said, "where'd you get it?"

Rocket rolled his eyes, "I know a guy."

Gamora, who returned to her nail filing at this point, smiled deviously a moment and laughed, "You're a regular comedian, now really, where'd you get it?" She looked back up and saw the object and her blood chilled to a nice panic mode. Her face grew expressionless and her eyes focused on the ceiling for a moment. It was all she could do to not go over there and strangle Rocket to death. She let out a very disappointing sigh.

Rocket nodded, "Yeah, I know it looks and sounds bad- that's because it is."

"Why do you have the most unstable element known to man in a safe Rocket?" Gamora asked, still looking at the ceiling. Drax looked at her and then at the ceiling, slightly confused.

"Sorry to interrupt, but is there something interesting up there?"

Gamora rolled her eyes and looked at her companion and shook her head.

"Then why were you looking up there?" Drax asked.

"Yeah," Rocket said, placing the bullet in the safe and closing it while Drax was no longer looking. The raccoon stood up, "what's so interesting about the ceiling. Just a bunch of pipes and metal."

Rocket started to pant a little, his tail moved from side to side. "Maybe I should've rethought about this more."

"You think!" Gamora screamed. "You have the most dangerous bullet in a safe right next to you!" She stood up kneeled down and pulled a knife out to Rocket's throat. "What were you thinking?"

Rocket backed up a bit showing his palms as a sign that he had no intention of getting into a brawl. "I was thinking on how hot it was in here. I was about to repair the air conditioner but you know, I think I'll just check up on Quill. He'll take my side on this."

"I'm not against you," Gamora said, standing up, knife still in hand, "I just want to know what you were planning to do with that thing."

Rocket smiled and shrugged his shoulders, "Nothin'." He said, "Absolutely nothin'."

"You said that sarcastically." Gamora replied, hinting at the fact that the raccoon snickered, rubbed his feet up against them a bit and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Because I was being sarcastic." Rocket said, smiling again. "I was planning to- to use it against someone."

"Who?" Gamora asked.

"Someone who did something to me." Rocket replied, as he quickly dismantled the weapon and also very quickly returned the air conditioner to normal- replacing the pieces and restoring the beloved air. When he was finished, he crawled out from the hole in the wall, put the steel plate back in place and stood up again.

"There, is that what you want?" The raccoon asked.

"I don't care about a lousy air conditioner." Gamora said, "I want to know who this Someone of yours is."

Rocket shook his head and sighed, "Ever heard of keeping one's business to one's self?"

"Ever heard of teamwork? We're a team Rocket, that means we're there for each other. If you just tell me what's going on then-"

Rocket interrupted her via the raising of his hand-like paw and proceeded to walk upstairs. "There's nothin' more to talk about because there's nothin' going on. Just get back to your nail filing and leave me alone please."

Gamora nodded and sighed. "He's going to be all alone one day."

"I'll go talk to him," Drax said, "maybe I can get through to him."

"Let me know if he's alright, alright?"

Drax nodded and walked upstairs.

Rocket beheld Peter Quill, fast asleep with headphones in ear and head resting on his shoulder. He was listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Simple Man". The lyrics, which Rocket could hear, moved the raccoon so much as to silently climb onto Peter's torso, remove the headphones from his ears and place them on his own. While he was at it, the raccoon put the ship out of auto-pilot and took control of the ship- steering it in the direction of his personal agenda- the place where that specific Someone was. Xandar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II: **

Rocket put the ship into auto-pilot for a moment. Still sitting in Peter's lap and still having the headphones pressed up against his ears, the raccoon looked around and took a breather. He closed his eyes as the soft piano of Simon and Garfunkel serenaded him to peace. He thought of what he would do when he would wake up. He imagined himself landing on Xandar near the designated meeting place, walking out of the ship with his pride out the window as he willingly did the one thing he swore he wouldn't do.

The raccoon stirred and tried to think of something that was more optimistic but nothing came to mind. So, he did the natural thing and listened to the balladeers sing their song of hope and reassurance.

_"When you're down and out, when you're on the street. When evening falls so hard, I will comfort you. I'll take your part oh, when darkness comes- and pain is all around. Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down. Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down."_

Drax entered the cockpit, taking the chair in the back, and observed his small comrade. He noticed that Rocket was tense, as if there was a crick in his neck, and resting on top of Quill made the situation a bit awkward. It wasn't that it was weird to Drax, it was just an unexpected notion for Rocket to do.

_Obviously, _Drax thought, _he must be feeling lost. He looks fearful, like a lost child in a dark room. _

The song stopped. Rocket sat up and pressed the stop button on the Walkman. He removed the headphones and continued piloting the ship.

"Alright, let's see where we are." He said and looking at a map, saw that they would be at Xandar in approximately three and a half hours- not that it mattered because the fuel was almost empty. The raccoon sighed.

"Looks like we're going to have a make a pit stop," he grumbled, "again. Jesus, the gas mileage on this thing is really shitty." Rocket put the ship in auto-pilot, jumped off Quill's lap and moved to go downstairs when he saw Drax sitting there looking observant towards him.

"Do you have anything to say to me or is this a staring contest?"

"Depends," Drax said, "are you alright?"

Rocket rolled his eyes and lifted his hands for dramatics, "Did Gamora put you up to this?"

"If I say no, would you believe me?" Drax asked.

"No."

"Then yes." Drax answered.

Rocket looked at him, smiling slightly and moving his tail with intrigue, for added effect, or simply to amuse the man, Rocket crossed his arms. "What do you want Drax?"

"To see if you're okay," Drax said, "you seemed a bit disturbed back there. Is something troubling you?"

Rocket shook his head and lowered it at the same time as he walked towards Drax with a slight laugh. "There's nothin' wrong with me," he said looking up at him and genuinely smiling this time, "I'm fine. Honestly, I'm alright."

"Are you sure of this? Because if you're not you can tell me. You're among friends after all." Drax said.

"Yeah, I know." Rocket said, being for once in his life sincere, "but there are some things that you know and some things that I do. I know that I'm okay."

"How do you know?"

Rocket smiled again, "Forgive me for being philosophical for a moment here, but you're okay when you're safe, when you're breathin', when you have something to live for. That's when you're okay."

Drax nodded, agreeing with the statement but wasn't sold on the smile and wave routine and expressions Rocket was giving him. _He seems to be masking his emotions with what he should be feeling- okay, when he's really not. There really isn't any proof that this is true, save for a small glimmer of desperation in his eye._

"You can hide all you want to, but sooner or later someone is going to find you," Drax said, standing up, "make sure it's one of us instead of someone who doesn't care about you."

"I'll keep that in mind Socrates, but seriously, I'm fine. Now if you'll excuse me," the raccoon said as he passed the burling behemoth and made his way downstairs. "I have to make a special delivery."

Drax followed him down the stairs.

When they reached the lower room, Drax watched Rocket's tail sway back and forth and his head swivel from left to right and left again as if he were fearful of being watched. Rocket stopped a moment and looked around the room.

"Where is it?" Rocket asked.

"Where's what?" Drax replied.

Rocket didn't answer. He just began searching around the room frantically like the Mad Hatter. He ripped apart the metal plate cover to the air conditioner, squeezed himself in and cursed the world and everyone he knew (including his mother) and crawled back out again. After this, his head began to stir and spin as he rushed over to a group of miscellaneous boxes full of random parts and Quill's 1980's memorabilia. The first box he pillaged through was filled with old Marvel comic books. Out of curiosity, the raccoon rummaged through them and pulled out an Iron Man comic book, specifically Issue No. 55. Flipping through its pages, Rocket laughed and tossed it aside.

"What a load of bullshit, like that's _ever_ going to happen!"

He picked up another one, _The Thanos Quest No. 2_. "Well that's just not fair!" He shouted. "Thanos has his own biography!" The raccoon looked over and saw a black pen conveniently roll across the floor near Drax.

"Hey Drax, let me see that pen, I want to make a few changes to this real quick."

Drax leaned down and picked up the pen, it was a Chinese Hero Fountain Pen with the appropriate "Made in China" label along the side of it.

"This is a beautiful pen." Drax said. "This place called China is very articulate in their pen making."

Rocket rolled his eyes, "That's great, real fascinating. Just give me the pen!"

Drax threw it and, as usual, Rocket caught it in mid-air and made his corrections. When he was done, he placed the altered _Thanos_ comic book, the Iron Man #55 and the pen in the box.

"Now," the raccoon said, "where was I? Oh yeah- where the hell is it!"

He resumed his frantic state. He paced the floor, grabbed his fur and pulled it out and banged his head up against the wall. His chest began to constrict and his mind began to come up with excuses for losing it. _It was stolen by a Kree bandit. I throw it out the window. It blew up. We all died and you're just imagining things- this deal never happened and you're really grieving for us all. You're also a sick bastard! _

Peter Quill meanwhile, who was up at the moment, was playing his mix tape in the stereo. The Black Crowes beautiful ballad of insecurity and depression was playing and Peter was singing really badly and really loudly.

"She talks to angels! Says they call her out by her name! Oh yeah, angels- call her out by her name!"

The guitar and the drums, combined with two 9.75"H x 14.25"W x 9.75"D Bose bookshelf speakers made the song of heartbreak give Rocket a splitting headache and even more furious. The raccoon screamed bloody murder, ran into his room and grabbed the nearest weapon he could find (which was the Razor BX9: a customized plasma pistol with a fancy name). He rampaged like a bull in the ring and began shooting the walls and the crates. His mind was beginning to think of the consequences. _Great! You really fucked up this time, Rocket. Now the entire universe is going to explode all because you just had to steal that precious Technetium bullet. I hope that Broker is happy. I'm costing major repair damage to this ship as it is already so it's not like this is going to fucking matter in the end._

"Rocket!" Drax screamed. "Stop this foolishness!"

Rocket turned towards him and aimed the barrel at the man's head. "Where is it?"

Drax looked left and right for an escape route. All he found was an angry raccoon who was three seconds from obliterating him and an empty hallway, "Where's what!?"

"I am Groot!" Groot shouted from his room.

"Yeah I know I'm being loud, obnoxious, destructive and reckless!" Rocket called, "But I'm officially pissed off!"

"What are you looking for?" Gamora asked, also from her room.

"My safe, where is it?" Rocket replied, letting his guard and anger off Drax for a moment and onto an empty hallway.

"It's in here." Gamora said. "I wanted to keep it safe for you."

Rocket sighed, lowered his head and threw his weapon down on the ground. "Do you have any idea what is in that thing?"

"Yes," Gamora answered, "it's the second most dangerous object in the universe besides the Infinity Stones."

"So you mean the seventh." Rocket said.

Gamora, who was on her bed, stood up and opened the door to her room, carrying the small safe (which was not light, mind you) in her hands. She entered the room with a snobbish look on her face, as if she had a personal vendetta out on the entire populace of the known universe. She sat the safe in the middle of the room.

Everyone then proceeded to look at the crates and when they did, they were silent. The carnage of Peter's past life lay before them in a solemn display of charred boxes. Memories of camping trips, childhood friends, family reunions, memorable birthday parties, summers' at the lake, the family car, the house, even those of the dog that lived for three months and died from a rare form of cancer, all a part of Peter's short childhood on Earth was in these boxes. All that stood before them was a charred, disrespected shadow of a man who missed the joy's in life. He never bought his first car, never experienced high school or college, he never moved from his parent's place and become a success in business. All the feats of normality and humanity were gone thanks to a raccoon who wondered where his safe was.

The only box that wasn't completely destroyed was in the back. Gamora walked over to the box, pulled it out and shoved it in Rocket's arms.

"Enjoy your burden." She said.

Rocket smirked a bit, failing to see why this red box would be his responsibility, "Excuse me," he said, "but I hope you're being sarcastic here."

"Those things were important to him," Gamora replied, "and you destroyed every bit of it save this box. You're going to explain all this." She turned towards the safe, "I hope whatever in there ends up blowing up in your smug little face."

Rocket sighed, "I didn't intentionally-"

"Think?" Gamora suggested. "No you didn't, you just acted. Learn to control your anger, you'll live longer." She turned towards Drax and glared at him as if it were partially his fault. She walked upstairs and asked Quill to turn down the music.

"Are you going to do it?" Drax asked.

"What? Take charge of this stupid box? Hell no!" Rocket sat the box at his feet and began to push it to the side of the room. Drax looked at him again and noticing that the raccoon pushed it rather haphazardly up against the wall, as if he didn't care about it.

"How are you going to explain this to him?"

"Simple," Rocket said, "weapons malfunction. He'll believe it."

"Are you at least going to look inside?" Drax asked.

Rocket rolled his eyes, "If it'll make you stop talking about it," he said and opened the box. His heart stopped. After giving himself a moment to let the contents of the box sink in he turned towards his weapon, walked towards it and began dismantling it slowly out of respect for the contents of said box.

Drax walked over to the raccoon and kneeled beside him. He noticed that Rocket was tense again, as if he were holding a regret more severe than murder. His ears drooped and his tail slowly swayed apologetically, as if to symbolically apologize to Drax for his behavior. The raccoon stayed silent until the weapon was completely dismantled and a slew of parts lay somewhat organized on the floor.

"Sorry about the gun in your face." Rocket said. "I just can't lose what's in that there safe."

"Why?" Drax asked. "What makes it so important?"

Rocket sighed, "Someone, the person I was tellin' you guys about, wants it for his trophy room. I agreed to it because it was just something for me to do on my own. No offense to you guys but four is kind of a crowd sometimes. Anyway, he told me where it was and while you were evacuating Olympus from that supernova, I headed over to where it was, picked it up and here we are."

"You didn't answer my question." Drax said.

Rocket smirked a bit, his eyes made the mistake of darting, a sign of nervousness."What are you talking about?"

"The question, what makes whatever it is in that safe so important, you never answered it." Drax replied. "Do you know the answer?"

Rocket nodded. _Yes_, he thought, _I know the answer to that question. If I tell you, you have to swear not to tell anyone else._

Drax nodded back. "I won't tell anyone else."

Rocket sighed, "Alright, here goes." He looked around making sure that no one was eavesdropping. He took a deep breath and prayed to God that he wouldn't be judged for this and began speaking.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III:**

_Xandar_

_The Milano _landed on Xandar at precisely midnight with the Electric Light Orchestra as the landing music. That's right, Peter Quill has music specifically selected for landing. Fittingly, it was "Don't Bring Me Down".

"I have some personal business to take care of Quill," Rocket said loudly over the music. "I'll be right back."

"I'm coming with you!" Drax shouted, also to outdo the music.

Peter smiled and turned down the music a little. He looked at his two companions, who were standing near each other behind the captain's chair. Gamora was in the co-pilot's seat eating the last remains of some oatmeal, looking at all three of them as if she were stuck in a real life version of _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest_.

"If it's so personal," Gamora said. "then why did Drax over to come with you?"

"He's not." Rocket said. "It's _my_ business." He placed his paw on his torso, as if to signify that he was going alone and intentionally expecting everyone else to fuel the ship, clean it a little perhaps and get on with their lives.

Drax looked down at his friend somewhat perplexed for five minutes earlier Rocket said that he could come along. "But you said-"

The raccoon glared at him and at a poor attempt at whispering said to him, "Ixnay on the amscray."

Drax, who didn't get the point, on this or anything else about the English language, let alone Pig Latin, who also didn't understand the simple concept of whispering, said rather audibly, "What is this Ixnay and why is he on Amscray?"

Rocket gave him "The Jack Benny", otherwise known as the deadpan stare.

"What?" Drax asked. "Rocket?" He waved his hand in front of the rodent. "Move your eyelids if you're alive."

Rocket blinked.

"Good," Drax said, "now, why are you staring at me like that?"

Rocket said nothing. He just continued with the Jack Benny and Drax waved his hand in front of him again.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Drax asked.

Rocket held up his hand, the answer being five of course. The raccoon leaned his head down, looked at the burling raging machine. He smiled and winked.

"I don't understand what you're trying to do." Drax said.

The raccoon held out his hand and Drax grabbed it, shaking it. "Now," Rocket said, "just follow my lead alright."

Drax nodded.

Fittingly the mix tape stopped on the song that Rocket was thinking of to distract the rest of them long enough so that he and Drax could get of there and deliver the score. The raccoon walked over to the stereo and turned up the music. A choir started singing as Rocket went downstairs to retrieve a bag and the contents of the his safe which were both at the foot of the stairs.

Peter and Gamora looked at Drax, "Do you have any idea what he's talking about?" They said.

Drax shook his head, "He's senile."

"Heard that!" Rocket called as he ascending the stairs again, burlap sack in tow. It was a lot heavier than one Technetium bullet for a weapon that no longer existed.

"What's in the bag?" Peter asked.

"Personal business." The raccoon said.

"Alright," Peter said. "just be safe, okay?"

Rocket nodded. The lyrics to the song were about to start. The raccoon started singing as he opened the cockpit hatch. "I saw her today, at the reception, a glass of wine in her hand."

Peter smiled and joined in. "I knew she was gonna met her connection and her feet was a footloose man."

They did a duet. "You can't always get what you want, you can't always get what you want, you can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, then well might find, you get what you need!"

* * *

Drax climbed out of the ship and followed Rocket to their destination- the Broker. As they entered the main square, the last street light turned off. The darkness of the buildings the overcast clouds, made the moon helpless in this situation. The fountain however, offered the soothing sound of flowing water so the silence and darkness wasn't totally off-putting. Rocket sat his burlap sack on the ground and grabbed his prize. The Technetium bullet gave off a silvery glow, despite there being no light source around.

"Well," Rocket said, "this is interesting."

"Why is it glowing like that?" Drax asked.

"Because it's radioactive." Rocket answered. "Don't worry, I've contained it- that's why it's a bullet. The element isn't the bullet itself, but it's inside of it."

"Wouldn't the bullet be affected then?" Drax asked.

"In theory yes, but this element is different."

"Why is that?"

"Because," Rocket said, "this one was created in the same lab that- well, created me, if you want to get technical."

The raccoon pulled out the other object he put in the sack, a new weapon of his. He loaded it in the chamber slowly, most because he loved to hear the click, lock and ease of the mechanics. It made him eager to charge into heavy fire and use it on whatever invading force there was. Rocket walked towards the Broker's place of business with Drax in tow.

Knocking on the steel door three times with no results. The raccoon gave up and started screaming into the sky. "Open up you damn psychopathic freak!"

"Rocket," Drax said, "perhaps it would be more beneficial to wait until the sun rises."

"By then a certain Someone might not be where I want him to." Rocket said. "We have to do this now."

The raccoon kicked the door twice. "Open up!"

As Rocket began throwing a mini-tantrum, Drax looked over at the side of the door and noticed a red button and a speaker. He walked over to the wall, pressed the red button and spoke.

"Yes, we're here to deliver your bullet." He said. He let go of the button.

"Thank you for using the intercom," the voice, which was that of the Broker said. "Most people don't appreciate it. They just kick the door and scream like a banshee."

Rocket rolled his eyes, "It's a door, what else are you supposed to do to it?"

"I'll be down in the minute," The Broker said, "be sure to tell your friend whoever you are, to behave himself."

Drax nodded and turned towards Rocket. "Behave yourself."

Rocket rolled his eyes, "Whatever, the only reason I brought you along is because you know what's about to go down."

"I do," Drax said, "and to be honest, I don't agree with it."

"Well what do you want me to do?" Rocket asked, looking at his friend with all serenity, "I don't have a choice."

"Yes you do." Drax replied. "You could walk away right now and never speak of this."

"I can't do that." The raccoon said. "This means more than just money-"

"Your life then?"

Rocket turned towards Drax and sighed, "Yeah, that's exactly it. It means more than my life because this is about my life."

"Why are you speaking as if you were about to die?"

Rocket said nothing. He just looked at the door and smiled a little. "Every rose has its thorn, just like every night, has its dawn, just like every cowboy, sings a sad, sad song, every rose has its thorn."

"Yeah it does."

Rocket turned around and beheld Peter Quill with his trusty Walkman, Gamora and Groot standing there looking concerned as to what he was talking about. The walking talking lovable tree stepped forward, kneeled and said the only words he could.

"I'm alright," Rocket said, "just a bit melancholy."

Groot's eyes sparkled a bit, it looked like he was about to cry.

"Oh don't give me that face!" The raccoon said. "You know I'm not sentimental."

"I am Groot." Groot said having a hard time believing it.

"Believe it because I'm not. I'm the least sentimental person in the universe." Rocket looked around at every single one of them. "If it wasn't for Quill, I'd probably have you all in for a nice lump of cash right now."

The Broker opened his door. The raccoon turned around and smiled. "Sorry to disturb you sir, but I have the element, as commissioned."

"Excellent!" The Broker said smiling. "Mind if I see it?"

Rocket pulled the bullet out from his burlap sack and held it in his hands a moment. "First before I hand this over to ya," the raccoon said, "I would like to know who purchased such a fine commodity."

"I am not at liberty to say." The Broker said. "We can however talk about why you agreed to the terms."

"I know why I agreed to the terms," Rocket said, "I just want to know why someone would want this? I mean, it's not like it could be controlled for a weapon, it can't be harnessed as for power, it can't be transferred into fuel, it can't be used to cause the destruction of the galaxies, it can't be used for anything destructive so why would anyone want this?"

"Because of what it _can_ do." The man replied.

"Which _is_?"

The Broker smiled and went back inside. "Come this way please." He said. Rocket, along with the rest of his team, followed. The raccoon turned towards Gamora.

"If you're looking for an apology you're not going to get one from me." Rocket said.

"I'm not here for an apology-" Gamora replied.

Rocket stopped a moment and looked back at her in slight confusion. Usually he was right about these kind of things but this, "I'm not here for an apology" business threw him off.

"Then what are you here for?" Rocket asked.

Gamora smiled slyly and said, "I told you so."

Rocket let her pass and he just stared at her for a second, confused, annoyed and somewhat peeved. Groot smiled at his companion and patted his shoulder.

"I am Groot."

"Again, I'm fine. Just confused."

The plant anamorphous being looked at him concernedly, and he didn't have to say anything for Rocket to respond.

"Why are women so hard to read?"

Groot shrugged his shoulders.

"Rocket!" The Broker called. "The bullet please!"

"Coming sir!" The raccoon said and quickly hoofed it to the front of the party.

The Broker lead them to a room that required a four digit password to enter. Never a good sign.

Before opening the door, the Broker walked to a closet with six custom made suits of the same size (unfortunately). "Everyone who can needs to put these on." He said.

"Why?" Peter asked.

"Because the room we're about to go into is literally Absolute Zero." The Broker replied. Turning to Rocket, he reached out his hands.

"May I have the bullet please?"

"Not until I go in there and see what it is you plan to do with it." Rocket said.

"Sorry, but you can't," said the Broker, "you have to wear one of these suits."

"Fine, but answer me this one question- will I be compensated?"

The Broker nodded, "Of course you will my fury friend. Of course you will."

Rocket stared at him very disdainfully, "I'm willing to look past this for about five seconds so you better get your ass in there."

The raccoon handed the Broker the bullet and quickly ushered everyone who could, so Peter, Drax and Gamora, inside.

The room was dark, save for a blue light in the shape of a circle on the floor. The only thing in this room was a large podium with a touch screen attached to the front. The Broker walked over to the touch screen and pressed his index finger on it. The top of the podium opened up, revealing a display case with one hole at the end of it, just large enough for a beam of plasma.

"How is this possible?" Gamora said, shivering a little, "You can't have a room this cold."

"That's what they said about splitting the atom," The Broker said, "but it turns out that yes, you can split the atom. Which ironically, this little darling relates to that a little."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked.

"Patience, Mister Quill, patience." The Broker placed the bullet in the display case and quickly closed it. "Now, to explain. This bullet that your comrade retrieved contains an element that is extremely unstable and rare to find the universe, let alone the galaxy. It was created the year that Mister Quill calls 1937 in a place called Italy by a group of scientists. They were attempting to split the atom and did so with two elements, this one, Technetium, otherwise known as Element 43 and another called Rhenium, also known as Element 75. 43 however was problematic to the atom spiting process. As it turns out, the radiation Element 43 prneoduced was too unstable, too dangerous to contain. When the process was tested with Rhenium and Uranium to see if it would stabilize, it failed and caused well-" he paused a moment and turned towards Peter Quill, "let's just say the inspiration for Adolf Hitler's murder machines."

"That's not good." Peter said.

"Indeed," the Broker said, "it cost Earth billions of causalities and when we Xandarians aided you to stop the mess that's when it all went downhill."

"What, did one of your scientists figure out how to stabilize it?" Peter asked.

"Yes, you and Rocket know him very well." The Broker replied.

"Oh really, and who was he?"

The Broker smiled, "Why Mister Quill, he's your father."

* * *

As Rocket and Groot waited outside, a little girl walked into the room. She was dressed in a light blue nightgown and looked like she was about fifteen. Looking over to Rocket and Groot, the girl walked over very nonchalantly and immediately started asking questions.

"Is my father in there?"

"Depends," Rocket said, "is he the Broker?"

The girl nodded.

"Yeah, he's in there- but he's doin' business for me," Rocket replied, taking a small but nevertheless defensive step toward her, "he ain't got to time to read you a bedtime story."

She gave the raccoon a glare, (which in truth, Rocket thought was pretty okay) and turned towards Groot and smiled, "My name is Anastasia."

"I am Groot." Groot repiled.

"Pleasure to meet you," Anastasia said, "if you don't mind me asking, what business do you have with my father anyway?"

"The personal kind." Rocket replied.

"Oh I see," the girl said smiling a bit, "you're a shut in."

Rocket laughed, "I am not a shut in. I'm very open."

"I am Groot." The tree-man said.

Rocket rolled his eyes, "Thanks for being there for me."

"You can understand what he means?" Anastasia asked.

"Yeah," Rocket said, "it's sort of thing you pick up once you've been around him long enough." The raccoon moved to sit on the floor and Anastasia noticed that he looked down on the floor as if he were about to cry.

The girl sat down next to him. "Whenever I'm scared about something, father always quotes Shakespeare."

"Who?" Rocket asked.

"William Shakespeare," Anastasia said. "He's from Earth, or at least he was. He wrote plays."

"Oh goodie, a playwright, like we need more of those."

"Will you listen for a second?" the girl asked somewhat pleadingly, "It might make you feel better."

Rocket huffed and grumbled but complied anyway. He honestly did not see the point in listening to her quote a playwright, for he had no interest in plays. He's never seen or read one before, it's more an Earth only tradition but for some reason the Broker found it necessary to teach his daughter about them. She spoke the words of Theseus

"The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing. Our sport shall be to take what they mistake. And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect, takes it in might, not merit."

Rocket had no idea what that meant, but he knew that this kid was intelligent enough to know his emotions and for some reason, it did make him feel better. _To know that someone wants to help you is comforting I suppose. _Rocket thought, _Even though I have no idea what any of it meant, it felt good to hear it. Maybe that Shakespeare guy was onto something._

"What does that mean?" Rocket asked.

"It means that someone is going to recognize effort rather than the skill at which you perform something. Even if you do something terribly it does not mean that you at least tried." She said.

"So this relates to me how?"

"Depends," Anastasia said, "if the personal business is something that you did wrong or something that someone else did wrong."

"I didn't do anything wrong," Rocket said, standing up, "it's the scientists, they were the ones who did something wrong."

The raccoon walked back towards the front of the building just as the front door exploded in his face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV: **

Through the smoke and flame of the door was a man in a black blazer smoking a cigarette. Well, _man_ is a stretch. To be technical, this "man" was a six foot three reptilian humanoid who hated the term reptilian.

"Sir." A Xandarian guard, the abuser of the Broker's door, said.

"Be quiet please," the lizard said, taking a drag of his cigarette- letting the nicotine and tar fill his lungs and enter his system. He blew the smoke through his nose and chuckled a bit- almost like a Dragon, which was also his very fitting nickname.

He stepped inside the building, letting his military combat boots crunch the broken bits of metal, glass and display pieces that the Broker so desperately wished to sell for a price.

Rocket lay still up against the rubble of the Broker's desk. Glass and bits of plasma extruding from his chest made him appear a martyr of war than an aegis but that's how legacies survive. The raccoon slowly stood up and quickly examined himself- his ear was bleeding and his chest hurt like hell but other than that he was seemingly fine.

As soon as the reptilian stepped into the line of fire, Groot screamed bloody murder. Forming somewhat of a protective barrier around Anastasia, the tree anamorph extended his right arm, grabbing the lizard and wrapping his fingers slowly around the Dragon's neck. Groot was thirty milliseconds from squeezing the life out of him when the Dragon spoke.

"Virtue is the fount whence honour springs."

The lizard turned towards Rocket and smiled, "Do you have any recollection of that phrase?"

"If I did," Rocket said, limping over to him, "it's fuzzy and I don't give a damn." He walked towards Groot trying his best not to fall over. Anastasia scurried over to him and offered to balance him.

"Thanks," Rocket said, "but I'm perfectly capable." He stumbled a bit, the girl caught him.

"Easy," she said, "you don't want to move too fast too quickly."

The raccoon nodded and swallowed his pride a bit as he let her do what she wanted. _She'll be the one who goes first when the world ends. I don't know if that's a good thing or not, to be helped by a willing martyr. It's almost inhumane. Part of me wants to just get it over with, spare her the misery, but another part tells me to let her go, let her save me. At least then she'll leave a legacy- then again, legacies are bullshit ideas anyway. Sad it takes me being hurt and her reaching out to me to see that- legacies are bullshit. _

"Shame," the Dragon said, "to think you would forget such a phrase. You used to say it all the time."

Rocket laughed, "Yeah, me quoting flowery shit like that- that'll be the day! Virtue is the fount whence honour springs? Sounds like an awful Shakespeare moment."

"I am Groot." Groot said.

The raccoon looked at his companion with slight confusion, "Who is the hell is Christopher Marlowe?"

"I am Groot."

"Peter Quill told ya, huh?" Rocket said. "Where was I during this?"

"I am Groot."

Rocket smiled, "Yeah, that sounds about right." The raccoon laughed as Anastasia sat him down behind Groot.

"So what's the deal?" Rocket said. "You blow up the door and then what?"

"I take back what you stole Rocket." The lizard replied.

Rocket rolled his eyes, "Yeah, that's not going to happen reptile." He slowly made his way to Groot's side and looked towards the Dragon with a smug smile. "Why don't you crawl back into the sewer and leave all this alone."

The lizard whistled once. The guards that had blown up the door entered. Rocket noticed immediately that he was outgunned and outnumbered. Groot clenched his left hand into a very convincing fist. He was slowly beginning to grow into a menacing wave of anger.

"Groot," Rocket said, "don't- it's not worth it."

Groot eased up a bit.

Rocket turned towards the lizard again, "Do you have a name?"

"Yes," the Dragon said, "it's John. John Varexi."

The raccoon looked towards him as if he were crazy. He hadn't heard that name in so long he had almost forgotten what it sounded like. Looking at the lizard more sympathetically, Rocket attempted to stand again, using Groot for support. He winced from the pain and his knees almost gave out on him but Rocket managed to stand and gaze upon someone he once saved.

"John," Rocket said, "what the hell happened to you?"

"Scientific experimentation." John answered. "After you saved my life, I made my way to Xandar and met a scientist by the name of Henry McCoy, a geneticist from Earth who was visiting to check on business affairs for J'Son. I became fascinated with mutation and Doctor McCoy took me under his wing. After a few years I knew enough to go into business on my own and so I started experimenting with vaccines and cures. I figured that if there was a way to boost the human immune system by enhancing it then maybe we could cure diseases like cancer and AIDS. Well, when I found no success I turned to J'Son for help. He tinkered with the formula and used me as a subject. After that I was- transformed so to speak and was taken to a facility on Halfworld. I don't think any more needs to be said really except that I now have the brain capacity of Stephen Hawking, Albert Einstein and Garry Kasparov and yes, to answer your question, I am very good at chess."

John sighed a bit, "I sometimes cry at night because I know when people die, when they're in pain, when they- they kill themselves. When those occur, suicides I mean, I feel so helpless Rocket. I can't do anything about it."

The raccoon said nothing. All he did was stare at this lizard, this man, this former human being and feel pity for him.

"I'm sorry that you look like this John," Rocket said, "but you're wrong- you can do something about it."

"What? Risk myself for them?" John said. "Yeah, like they give a damn about me."

"I used to think the same way, hell, I still do," Rocket replied, "but there are good people left you know. Not everyone is one hundred percent a dick."

John smiled and nodded. "That's true. Now can you do my a favor and call your friend off. I have a Technetium bullet to get."

"Depends," Rocket said, "what do you want it for?"

"What do you think idiot, it's a cure!" John cried. "That's what can cure me of this. Please Rocket, help me one more time!"

The guard from before stepped to John's ear and whispered something inaudible. When the guard was finished, he stepped back and aimed his weapon at John's head.

"So," John said, "this is how it ends?"

The guard nodded. "This is how it ends."

The charging and readying of a weapon. The guard looked towards Rocket and saw that the raccoon was armed with a large, damaging and unmerciful weapon of massive pain which he appropriately called The Massive Pain Bazooka.

"'I'll give you to the count of three to put that piece of shit gun away and walk out of here alive." Rocket said. "One," he placed his finger on the trigger, "Two," he aimed and planted his feet firm. He paused a moment. The guard stood motionless. The raccoon turned towards Groot and nodded once. Groot nodded in response.

Rocket smiled deviously. "Tres."

"What does that mean?" The guard asked.

"It's Spanish for three you little prick." Rocket said and fired. Simultaneously Groot pulled John out of the line of fire and proceeded to cover him. The bullet from the bazooka exploded into a brilliant fury. Like Vesuvius, it destroyed the life and charred the corpse into haunting ash and insignificant dust. The guards who escorted John were fathers, son and grandchildren. Most of them, like the Germans of 1944, had no part in the deception. They were simply mercenaries who knew of coin and no code. Rocket didn't seem to care though, he laughed a bit as the two that flanked the leader bent and cried for deliverance and mercy.

Three more of them, reinforcements in case the mission went south, entered the building and fired upon the small band of legionaries. Rocket fired the bazooka again, this time he missed.

"Need some cover fire over here!" Rocket shouted as he resorted to his secondary semi-automatic pistol.

Anastasia for some reason unbeknownst to him, flanked the ongoing fire and made her way to a small box behind a display case. She opened it and pulled out a customized M9 Flamethrower. She turned towards John. He slowly made his way over.

"Do you have need of me?" John asked.

"Do you have anything that can distract them long enough for me to use this?"

John smiled and pulled a beautiful tear gas grenade. "You may want to cover your eyes." He pulled the pin and shouted, "Fire in the hole!"

The grenade was launched into the air and landed with a snake like hiss. The three guards' eyes watered to the point of blindness and they collapsed to the floor and screamed out of pain and confusion. Anastasia stood and opened the gates of hell of them. Moving back and forth like a sinister demon who didn't give a damn about the world, she screamed to where John thought her jugular vein might burst.

_Now I've heard of red in the face, _John thought, _but this is ridiculous. She's redder than a cherry. _

When the fuel ran out, Anastasia put the Flamethrower back in the box and assessed the damage. There was nothing- just two corpses frozen in fear and regret.

Rocket and Groot turned towards her, both of them sharing the same expression of disbelief. John stood, walked over to them both and smiled, "You two look ridiculous."

"Well if you won't say it," Rocket said, "then I will." He paused to clear his throat. "Damn it that was cool!"

"Thanks," Anastasia said, smiling a bit, feeling a bit better that someone approved of it.

"Is that your father's?" Rocket asked.

"Nope," the girl replied, "it's mine. Built it myself, take care of it, clean it, call it Mr. Bunny."

Rocket gave her a deadpan stare, the kind of stare that questions not only your intelligence but also your ability to do anything in society. _What the fuck is she doing calling it Mr. Bunny? It's a flamethrower! A FLAMETHROWER! Not some kind of stuffed doll you put on a shelf. Then again, she is only a kid. On the other hand she just used a flamethrower! But...Mr. Bunny?_

"You need to work on the naming skills kid." Rocket said. "How about FYSA for Fry Your Sorry Ass?"

"That's too vulgar." The girl said.

"I am Groot." Groot said.

Rocket rolled his eyes, "You're a real push over today aren't ya." The raccoon looked towards the anamorph, "You know there are days, and believe me this is one of 'em where I think you just live to drive me crazy!"

Groot shrugged, "I am Groot."

"Yeah I know who you are!" Rocket said. "Jesus, the one time you be literal is the time you got me mad."

He slouched, grumbled and complained silently to himself how his friend was taking the side of a girl they had just met less than one hour ago. Rocket walked over to the door of the room where his team was and knocked on it three times.

"You guys okay?" He asked.

Silence. The door opened slowly. Instantly the effects of Absolute Zero began to take Rocket's whiskers. Shivering like no tomorrow and succumbing to frostbite, the raccoon had just enough energy and time to glance at an empty lifeless room with a large ship sized hole in the back.

* * *

**Author's Note: **

**Next chapter introduces main antagonist and main conflict. **

**Thank you so much for the support and readership :)**

**Also, I usually have something I call a "Writer's Soundtrack" that I post at the end of the story. ****It's basically a list of songs that I listened to while writing. I do it because I love music and I try to choose at least one or two songs that capture the theme of chapters or the overall story in general. It's just something fun to do (I think anyway).**


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